


Why so tense, Potter?

by UchihaBloodline



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Partners, Dirty Talk, First Kiss, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Post-Hogwarts, a mixture of both
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 16:47:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14359539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UchihaBloodline/pseuds/UchihaBloodline
Summary: Harry should have known the effect that seeing Draco in his Slytherin robes nearly a decade after graduating Hogwarts would have on him.





	Why so tense, Potter?

**Author's Note:**

> Heeello. This is a short drabble that I could not get out of my head, so, it's pretty self-indulgent. You can find me on Tumblr at it-started-over-drarry. I hope you enjoy, please like and review! <3

“Oh, come  _on_ , Ronald, don’t be such a spoilsport,” Hermione huffed, crossing her arms. 

Ron sputtered. “ _Spoilsport_? The robes don’t even fit me anymore, I’ve grown  _taller_  since,” 

Harry could not say the same for himself, so he opted for dignified silence. 

Hermione raised a brow. “Are you a wizard or not?” she asked, Harry hid a smile behind his cup. “ _Expand_  the bloody things.” 

She wanted to throw a party with their closest friends, to celebrate ten years since they’d all graduated Eighth Year after the War, courtesy of McGonagall allowing them to return and sit their NEWTs. Hermione had thought it'd be fun if they all wore their old school robes for old time’s sake and Harry had enthusiastically agreed with the thematic, excited to wear his uniform after so long. 

* * *

The gathering was held at Grimmauld Place. 

Harry finished fastening his tie and stared at his reflection. He couldn’t help but grin, he looked  _way_  too old to be wearing it, but it was  _hilarious_. It made him feel like an Eighth Year staying up past midnight with everyone in the Common Room, drinking Firewhiskey and playing drinking games that turned inappropriate more often than not. 

He laughed as he came downstairs and saw the four banners Hermione had hung up, one for each House. In addition, she had hung balloon arrangements here and there, going with each house’s representative colours. Ron had, in fact, managed to charm his robes and dress shirt bigger, and he stared at his fiance fondly as she ran over last minute details.

He felt a thrill go through him as his home started filling with people. Luna, clad in her Ravenclaw robes, her hair up in a ponytail and her wand sticking through the knot. Ginny, who had chosen her Quidditch Gryffindor robes instead, holding her old broom and had a hand around Luna’s waist as they spoke to Terry Boot. Hannah Abbott, who had joined their group when she’d befriended Harry during Auror Training and her boyfriend, Justin Finch-Fletchley. 

Neville, Dean and Seamus brought four different brands of Scottish spirits that Harry could not arse himself to remember, stocking them neatly next to Firewhiskey, Vodka and Butterbeer that Harry had provided. 

Pansy and Blaise arrived last, Pansy had tied her tie around her hips, on top of her skirt, and her robes were thrown over her shoulders. Harry’s eyes scanned the crowd and his stomach dropped in disappointment when he didn’t see Draco among them. 

His friendship with Draco--and it was  _Draco_  nowadays, not Malfoy--still puzzled him at times. Harry had been shocked, and perhaps a tad livid when Draco had walked in on the first day of Auror training. They hadn’t spoken much during Eighth Year save for courteous smiles that had frustrated him and a clipped “ _I’m sorry,_ ” and “thank you,” Draco had bit out on the first day of classes when Harry had begrudgingly returned his wand. 

Then, to make matters worse, they’d been assigned as _trainee partners._ There would be no avoiding each other anymore, they would have to learn to co-exist and communicate, or else their teamwork would suffer and they would likely get sacked. 

To Harry’s surprise, it had been far easier than he thought it would be once they’d gotten past the awkward stage. Draco’s dry, witty sense of humour complimented his. Long gone were the harsh insults and venomous remarks, and they’d been replaced with comfortable teasing that made both of them laugh. They had a lot in common, and even more since Harry had introduced Draco to muggle books, films and music.  

Over the years, they’d grown even closer, and now that they’d been Auror Partners for almost a decade, Harry couldn’t imagine his life without Draco. 

“Don’t sulk, oh Chosen One. It’s rather unbecoming,” Pansy said, taking a sip of her orange juice and vodka. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Sod off, Pans,” he said, but the smile on his lips belied the sentiment. 

“Draco will be here soon, he got caught up at the Manor, you needn’t worry,” 

Harry could feel himself blushing. “I  _wasn’t_ \--” 

“Yes you were,” she cut in, tapping her perfectly manicured finger against his nose. “But fear not, I’ll keep your secret,” 

Pansy Parkinson could not keep a secret to save her own life, but Harry decided to keep his tongue. 

He looked away. He knew what she was getting at, after all, it had been a running joke and even a bet among their group for almost ten  _sodding_  years. He had been pining after Draco for the past three, after ignoring his feelings and being in denial for the first five. It wasn’t until Draco had started dating that Finnish curse-breaker that he’d understood he was  _jealous_ , and the concept of Draco being with another man drove him  _mad_  even though he had no right to. He’d almost cried with relief when they’d split up, and felt like a shite immediately afterwards. 

He knew Draco still hooked up with people, but all his relationships since had all been flings, much like Harry’s. 

Harry didn’t dare ask him out, he treasured the friendship they’d built so much that he feared it would be taken from him if Draco didn’t feel the same. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if that happened. 

“A sickle for your thoughts?” Harry nearly jumped out of his skin, spilling half of his butterbeer in the process. 

“Godrick. Don’t  _do_  that, Draco,” he said, pulling his wand out and spelling his robes clean. 

Draco snorted. “You’re turning into even more of a Drama Queen in your old age, Harry Potter,” 

Harry had come up with a dozen insults, he really had, because it was nothing if not bloody rich for Draco Malfoy, drama queen extraordinaire, to tell him  _he_  was being dramatic. But anything he could have said died in his throat as he took in Draco’s appearance. 

Well,  _fuck_. 

Draco was wearing his uniform, the robes and dress shirt pristine and neat as they had always been back at Hogwarts, never a wrinkle in sight, his green tie carefully tucked into his grey sweater. But Draco wasn’t as thin as he’d once been, he’d filled out over the years due to training, and it made the fabric cling deliciously to his toned arms and shoulders. His hair was no longer slicked back, it fell beautifully on his forehead and reached half an inch beneath his ears. 

Merlin hairy  _tits_. It brought all kinds of ideas to Harry’s mind, all of them ended in messing his tidiness up through different methods.  

“Err, I--” 

“Eloquent as ever, Harry,” Draco drawled, but there was a faint blush on his cheeks and he stared at Harry with an air of wonder and uncertainty. Harry excused himself and went to talk to Neville. 

* * *

Harry spent the rest of the evening attempting to be a gracious host, alternating between everyone present, but his eyes kept wandering back to Draco, and  _fuck_ , his arse looked incredible in his dress trousers and Harry wanted him so much he couldn’t focus. Earlier, Draco had joined his conversation with Luna, telling Harry to budge up and sitting next to him on the couch. It made their bodies touch from thigh to shoulder, and Harry spent the better part of it begging his prick not to get hard. 

He couldn’t ignore the heat that would pool low in his stomach whenever he looked at Draco and found him looking right back.

“Harry?” Ron snapped his fingers in front of Harry’s face, then he sighed. “Listen, mate. You’ve been spaced out all evening, everything all right?” 

Harry cleared his throat. “Everything’s fine, no-- _really_ , Ron. I’ll be right back,” he patted Ron’s shoulder and ducked out of the living room, going up the stairs and heading for the loo. 

* * *

After he splashed some water on his face and gave himself a pep talk to quit being so pathetic, he opened the door to the bathroom. 

“ _CHRIST_ ,” he shouted. Draco was leaning against the opposite wall with one foot propped against and his arms crossed over his chest. “What the  _fuck_ , Draco, will you quit doing that?” he panted. 

“You’ve been acting strange all evening,” Draco said, the dim light caught on the silver tones of his tie. 

“I don’t know what you’re--” Draco pushed off the wall and strode towards him, stopping a few inches from his face. 

“Yes, you do,” he whispered. He looked Harry up and down as if he was sizing him up and smirked. “Brings back memories, doesn’t it?” 

Harry stood frozen, his hand grasping at the wall behind him in a desperate attempt to keep himself upright. 

Draco closed the distance between them until there was barely an inch between their bodies, and Harry was hit with the scent of his cologne, dark and intoxicating. “Why so tense, Potter?” he asked, his gaze dropping to Harry’s lips. 

With a growl, Harry hauled him by the back of his neck, and kissed him.

It was nothing like a nervous, shy first kiss one would expect. It was hungry and fierce and long overdue. Harry cradled Draco’s face with both of his hands as Draco fisted his fingers in Harry’s hair, moaning when their tongues came in contact. His skin felt on fire, hot and burning. 

Harry brought one of his hands to Draco’s waist and pulled him, he groaned as their bodies flushed against each other, his hands eager to explore Draco everywhere, stroking his back, kneading his arse. Draco changed the angle of his hips and their erections brushed through their trousers, eliciting a gasp out of both of them. 

Harry slipped his hand from Draco’s jaw to the nape of his neck and he pulled Draco’s head back, leaning in and pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses on his neck, sucking the skin into his mouth eagerly, then lapping at the bruises that formed. Draco whimpered and pushed Harry’s face away before sinking on his knees. 

“ _Fuck_ , Potter, let me,” he said, nuzzling Harry’s groin, his hands braced on Harry’s thighs. Harry almost came from the sight of him on his knees, his hair ruffled and his pupils blown wide. 

He groaned loudly, and he hoped the music downstairs was loud enough to conceal it. “ _Yes_ ,” he answered, and he’d never been so sure of something in his life. 

Draco wasted no time, he peeled Harry’s trousers and pants in one go after unbuckling his belt and opening his flies, lips parting as he stared at Harry’s hard cock with hunger.

He wrapped his fingers around it and stroked Harry’s cock twice, poking his tongue out and licking around the head. Harry threw his head back against the wall with a loud thud, a broken  _fuck_  leaving his lips, and he threaded his fingers through Draco’s hair to keep himself steady. 

Draco wrapped his lips around the head and sucked _hard_ , stroking the length of his prick as he tongued the slit. Then he lowered his head further until the tip of Harry’s cock hit the back of his throat, alternating between licking and sucking, rubbing the head on the roof of his mouth, inducing incoherent words and low moans from Harry as he quickened the pace.  

Harry was so lost in the feeling of it he almost didn’t notice when one of Draco’s hands came up to his own and tightened his hold on Draco’s head. Draco pulled off with a loud pop and he resumed stroking with his free hand. “Fuck my face, Potter,” he said, his voice scratchy and spent, and he sank his mouth back down on Harry’s cock. 

Harry braced himself. “Nghhh,  _fuck_ ,” he cried as he started thrusting his hips, going deeper each time, his knees nearly buckling at the sensation of Draco’s tight throat wrapped around him. He looked down when he felt Draco moan around his cock, he felt his bollocks tighten, drawing up against his body as he took in the sight of Draco, drool dripping on his chin, lips swollen, cheeks hollowed as he just took it,  _wanted_  it and  _oh_ \--fucked his own fist, his green tie crooked and his robes falling off his shoulders as he stared at Harry hungrily. 

“Bet this was what you always wanted back then, huh?” he heard himself saying, hips still pumping. “Wanted me to give you a lesson with my cock in your mouth?” Draco whined, nodding his head, his lips stretched obscenely around Harry’s prick. 

He came with a shout, the cords on his neck straining as Draco swallowed every drop of it. His body slid against the wall, utterly spent, and he sat on the floor, panting. 

When he opened his eyes, Draco was sitting before him, looking so fuckable and  _hot_  it had to be illegal, his prick was tucked back in his pants, straining against the fabric. 

Well, that just wouldn’t do. 

Harry leaned in, kissing Draco’s jaw. “How long have we got till they notice we’re gone?” he murmured, rejoicing in the gasps that left Draco’s mouth. Before Draco could answer, he grabbed his hand and pulled him into his bedroom. 

* * *

 


End file.
